


Dull, Dull, Very Dull

by DisappearingKangaroo



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Don't worry Tony doesn't die, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sadness, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark has PTSD, Tony Stark is Depressed, Tony Stark is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisappearingKangaroo/pseuds/DisappearingKangaroo
Summary: A Post Infinity War fic focused on Tony and the trauma he went through. Follows a blank amount of time while he's in shock with everything that has happened around him.





	Dull, Dull, Very Dull

**Author's Note:**

> I'll work on my multichapter fic in a sec, I promise <3
> 
> Also- just as a warning, with the right headset, this fic can actually be really pretty sad and kind of scary to read. Idk guys, when I read over it my chest did the little thing that it does when it's in sadness pain.
> 
> There's a reference to suicide, but it's not at all graphic or anything. Still though, if it's triggering I'd recommend just not chancing it.
> 
> Also- I know what quotation marks are, I'm trying out a writing style to convey how the character (ahem, depressed, dissociated Tony) feels.
> 
> Love you all! <3

As Tony sits in piles of ash while a creepy blue alien is watching, he doesn’t think.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s that he can’t.

He can’t think.

Oh God oh God oh God oh God he can’t think.

(Oh God)

Nothing is in his brain right now.

Not Thanos, not Peter, nothing. 

When he opens his eyes he watches the world sway. He makes the connection that he’s rocking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.

Shhhh.

He hasn’t done that since he was little.

When Howard would yell at him. And he would rock back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. And Howard would yell at him for rocking. So he’d rock back and forth and back and forth and back and forth even more diligently, until Jarvis (sweet, sweet Jarvis) came to rescue him.

Tony wants to throw up with the thought.

Unfortunately, everything hurts too much.

(And yet not enough)

The blue alien says something about leaving Titan, but Tony’s brain doesn’t register it. 

Everything is coming through a cheesecloth.

(Even oxygen)

Shhhh.

The alien tells Tony to stand up. He makes no move to do so.

So she grabs him by the elbows and tells him that everyone has lost someone today.

Tony falls back down and he doesn’t know if it’s from the wound in his side, or the gaping hole where is heart was.

Tony closes his eyes. (And hopes he never has to open them again.)

He opens them.

Except this time a blue, blue, blue, very blue, sky greets him.

Tony remembers the time Jarvis took him out of the workshop when he was little and he watched the blue sky.

He remembers taking Peter’s suit away from him while watching the blue sky.

The memories have no connection.

(Definitely no connection)

He can’t think.

He throws up anyway.

His vomit narrowly misses bulky shoes.

(He recognizes those shoes)

Steve looks down on him and speaks his name.

The only person that said Tony’s name right was his mother. With her beautiful Italian accent, always muddled with the effects of failed sobriety.

Antonio, she’d say. Antonio, where is your father?

Never her husband, always his father.

Tony vomits again, and this time it’s just bile. 

Steve is trying to talk to him, that he can tell. He’s moving his lips and Tony feels the hot air landing on his face, the closer and more desperate Steve gets. 

With a blink that takes a full second, Tony tries to focus on it.

(It doesn’t work)

Tony can’t think.

He can’t find the words to respond to his former teammate.

A former teammate who knew about his mother’s death.

Tony thinks he throws up again but at this point he isn’t sure.

He closes his eyes. 

(And hopes again that they’ll never open back up)

But then the blue sky is staring down at him once more, which doesn’t make sense because he doesn’t remembering opening his eyes.

Bruce Banner’s face clouds his vision. 

Is it really him? Tony can’t tell.

He can’t think.

Bruce’s glasses slide down his nose from sweat and blood, and Tony watches in near awe as he unconsciously pushes them back up every few seconds.

His lips are forming something familiar, eerily familiar. 

Are you okay?

Comes through a series of foam and water to Tony’s ear.

It’s too much, that sentence is too much.

Shhhh.

Peter’s dead.

Shhhh.

Shhhhhh.

Tony doesn’t have anything else to throw up.

Someone pushes down on his stab wound. He feels the dagger, his own invention, pierce the skin once more.

It hurts.

It doesn’t hurt enough though. 

Someone’s sobbing near him. 

Everyone’s sobbing near him.

Everyone is crying, no one’s eyes are dry.

No one’s but Tony’s.

He can’t think.

He hears someone say, Tony please, please, can you understand?

And the clinical tone must mean it’s Bruce, which doesn’t make sense. Bruce isn’t that kind of doctor.

Shhhhh.

More pressure is placed on the gaping hole in his side, and Tony wants to tell them that’s not the wound to worry about. 

He can’t think.

Tony, Someone says. Tony, you have to look at me.

Instead, Tony looks around the heads and sees the blue sky.

Like the time he was shitfaced drunk after a party and woke up on the steps of a dorm building the next morning. How the sky was beautiful and blue, and almost enough to end his misery.

Just like last time, a dark skinned face is sprouted into his vision.

He mouths, Tones, but no sound comes out.

Shhhh.

Peter’s dead.

This time, when he closes his eyes, they don’t open as quickly.

(Unfortunately, they eventually still do)

When he wakes he can’t feel anything.

By using his eyes, Tony can tell he’s on a bed. He can’t feel it though.

Peter’s dead.

Tony moves his head a bit to the left it vomit up bile. 

There’s something in his left arm.

Shhhhh.

The wound in his side doesn’t even feel that bad anymore.

The other wound does.

He still can’t think. 

He sees Bruce in a chair a few feet away. His head is drowsily resing in one of his hands. His glasses are loosely held in the other.

Shhhhh. 

Tony wonders if Pepper is alive.

He can’t think.

Tony wonders if May is alive.

Now he really can’t think.

In the back of his mind he knows that it will be easier if she turned to dust as well.

Tony throws up more.

His stomach isn’t a fan of all of this vomiting.

Shhhhh.

Bruce wakes up.

Tony doesn’t care.

Peter is dead.

Tony reads Bruce’s lips as he comes up next to him.

Are you okay? He asks, and Tony doesn’t know how to respond.

Yes.

Sure.

Maybe.

Possibly.

I might be.

Soon.

Almost.

Not yet.

Never.

He doesn’t know how many of those words he said out loud. Maybe it was all of them.

He can’t think.

But based on Bruce’s frown, he probably said more than he wanted to. 

Tony doesn’t know what he actually wanted to say.

Shhhhhh.

Tony doesn’t think he can breathe. Oh wait, he just stopped for some reason.

Peter’s dead.

Bruce gently sits down next to him. Tony? He asks, and the other man ignores him.

Peter’s dead.

He closes his eyes.

(Again)

He’s in the same place when he wakes up.

He closes his eyes.

(Again)

Someone is talking to him, and he doesn’t know when it happened. 

They’re mid conversation, so at some point Tony woke up, but he doesn’t know when.

They say something about people worrying about him, but Tony doesn’t really understand. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Peter’s dead.

So Tony nods and closes his eyes again.

Shhhhhh.

The next time he wakes up, the bed feels softer. Almost like his bed in New York.

Now though, his clothes feel like sandpaper on his skin. He doesn’t like it.

He can’t think.

But he takes a shower, and he doesn’t miss the sad smile Bruce gives him.

All of Bruce’s smiles are sad now. 

Tony tries not to think about it.

Shhhhh.

Tony doesn’t remember the shower, but he knows someone found him after, because his hair is still wet when Natasha tells him something.

I just wanted to check in on you, She starts, We’re all worried, Tony.

Usually she uses his last name. Tony doesn’t know if it’s a nice change, or a worrying one.

He can’t think.

Tony watches her lips move, her cheeks and jaw move, but he doesn’t know what she’s saying. Knowing her, it’s probably sweet, sweet lies.

Shhhh.

This time when Tony closes his eyes he doesn’t fall into unconsciousness. 

Instead he lies awake.

He lies awake for hours, and hours, and hours.

And then days.

And then the next time Bruce comes in, he doesn’t even try a sad smile. Instead, he looks so completely defeated, and he gives Tony something to drink.

To help you sleep, He says, and Tony takes it without question.

There’s more liquid in the container that Bruce is holding, but doesn’t worry about it.

(He should have)

The next time he wakes, everyone but Bruce is around him.

He can’t think.

Steve is lazily wiping tears from his eyes, and he says, It’s Bruce.

And Tony throws up something that someone had him eat however many days ago.

He can’t think.

It’s Bruce.

He can’t breathe.

It’s Bruce.

He can’t think.

It’s Peter.

He can’t move.

It’s Stephen.

He can’t do anything.

It’s everyone.

Tony closes his eyes again.

Shhhhh.

People don’t check in on him like Bruce does.

Did.

Shhhhh.

People have a hard time caring now. 

After you’ve lost so many people- what’s one more?

To Tony, it’s everything.

He can’t think. 

One day the grits he eats tastes like something. It’s a strange concept.

Everything has too much flavor now, but none of the right flavors.

He wants the flavor of cheap pepperoni pizza with Peter after an evening of webbing random things across New York.

He wants the flavor of booze after a night in the lab playing around with random shit with Bruce, who claims he can’t get drunk because of the Hulk. (He can still get drunk.)

He wants the flavor of Indian curry cooked after training sessions.

He wants the flavor of shawarma with friends.

He wants the flavor of chalky ice cream that he buys non-stop from the store. (He didn’t even try to give it up.)

He wants the flavor of old meals from the forties that Cap made when he was homesick. (Timesick?)

He wants the flavor of bad smoothies from Dum-E

He can finally taste food, and now he throws it up even more.

It could make him look obese when he met Harley.

Someone tells him to eat, and Tony gives a nod and ignores it.

Shhhhh.

Tony wishes that he could go back to not tasting things.

It’s not like how he remembered it.

He thinks that Pepper’s dead, because if she was alive, she would’ve found him by now.

The thought alone makes Tony’s blood stop pumping.

(Somehow, it continues)

He can’t think.

He can’t think.

HE CAN’T FUCKING THINK.

Shhhhh.

(He still can’t think.)

No one notices.

Tony thinks that Bruce would notice.

But that’s not important, because Bruce isn’t here anymore.

A talking raccoon visits Tony and hands him a few gadgets and says If you’re anything like me, a bit of tinkerin’ might help.

Even as an animal, he has the same face as Bruce had.

So when he leaves, Tony says with more force than anything since the snap, Don’t do it.

The raccoon looks over his shoulder for a mere second, and then continues his sad, sad, very sad, walk.

Tony takes the destroyed gadgets and makes a clock out of it.

But it’s lopsided and droopy, like a piece of a set from Alice in Wonderland.

Instead of marking clear, concise ticks per second, it ticks whenever it feels like it.

Tony can’t think.

He wonders if Dum-E misses him.

He knows that Jarvis is truly gone forever.

The wonderful old man that has always been there for Tony is now gone.

He can’t think.

The next day’s meal doesn’t even stay down for a minute.

At least he can taste it.

He closes his eyes again, and this time he wonders when the last time he went out of this room is.

He feels his beard. It’s long. 

And in patches.

He feels his head.

It’s patchy too.

He can’t think.

Yesterday he could see all of his ribs.

Shhhh.

His chest hurts again.

Shhhh.

He can’t think.

Shhhh.

And four days later he smells Natasha Romanova and a perfume that she must keep with her.

He throws up again.

(The back of his teeth have decayed from all of the vomiting)

Nothing in Wakanda smells right.

It’s too dusty and there’s not enough gasoline polluting the skies.

Tony figures that was Thanos’ plan all along.

He can’t think.

Natasha visits him more often. She thinks that she’s helping.

It’s not that she isn’t helping, it’s just that nothing will help.

Yesterday Tony stood up and passed out.

Shhhh.

He’s not concerned.

Someone put an IV in.

Tony couldn’t care less. 

The fabric of the bed feels like nails again.

And yet, it doesn’t hurt enough.

Natasha looks at him one day and asks,  Что не так, ребенок?

Tony gives her a dull, dull, very dull smile and doesn’t answer.

She stays anyway. 

Natasha sings him a Russian lullaby, and Tony can’t seem to appreciate it. He watches her lips move, just like with everyone else, but somehow it’s different this time.

He can’t think. 

He doesn’t hear her sing so much as he feels the air bending to the tones.

Shhhh.

He can’t think.

She sings to him nearly everyday.

She cries often now.

A woman that Tony’s never seen defeated. And now tears run down her eyes like rivers coming back after a drought.

Tony knows that’s exactly what happened.

He wonders how long the drought was.

He can’t think.

And then one day when he wakes everyone is in a panic.

People are screaming, and crying, and Tony’s sure that another half of the population is going to get turned to dust. He’s also sure that he’ll still be on the losing side of the half.

He can’t think.

He thinks that if people continue to cry like this there’s going to be a whole now river in Wakanda.

Tony pulls himself off of the bed and only collapses twice on the way to the door.

He hasn’t gone out of this room since a long time.

He doesn’t know when.

Shhh.

But before he can merely stick his head out of the door, a strange sight greets him.

And Tony hears something, doesn’t feel the air, but hears, for the first time in forever.

“Mister Stark?”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Kudos and comments make me really happy and smile like a kid on Christmas morning!!
> 
> Till next time- take care of yourselves <3


End file.
